In the clear morning light, in joyful Sunday sunshine, and still in the peace enveloping the Sea of Tiberias, we are going to hear the six o’clock mass, taken by the humble priest who visited us yesterday evening.

The poor tiny church is whitewashed all over. The altar is set with a piece of white calico and a piece of muslin and the Stations of the Cross are simple paper paintings. Everything is as unpretentious as can be imagined, white and clean, the sun's rays streaming in through the windows and the swallows singing.

But there is not an empty seat anywhere; the pews are full. During mass, celebrated according to the oriental rite, all the parishioners take the sacred bread and sing together. They are Arab converts and sing the Kyrie and the Sanctus falsetto like the muezzin, as if they were at the top of the minaret at the first light of dawn. The proceedings end with a procession through the church, the young children bringing up the rear singing their hearts out like birds. Before he takes his leave of us, the good cure is keen to welcome us in the small whitewashed room which serves as a presbytery. A bed, a straw chair and several books are all he owns in this world. He tells us how much he earns: seventeen francs a month! He has been in Tiberias for twenty years and his sole earthly dream is to wait there in peace for the great mysterious end and to be left there by his superiors until the day he dies. He is so touched that we have accepted his invitation that he asks permission to give us the kiss of peace as we say farewell – and that will in all likelihood be forever.

We have sent on our horses, mules and baggage in advance to Bethsaida along the paths by the shore.

We go down to the deserted quay of Tiberias to await the two abbes who are to be our companions for the day.

Three or four boats are all that remain on the sea which used to be crossed by countless fishing boats at the time of Jesus. They are alongside the old paving stones, moored to the sad abandoned quay. After long suspicious haggling with the Arabs who man them, we hire two of them for our trip.